


Saving the Savior

by dragontara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Dark Magic, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragontara/pseuds/dragontara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is kidnapped. No one has a clue as to what happened and who did it. Greg Goyle might have seen something, but he’s a Slytherin and thus not a reliable witness. He has to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving the Savior

**Author's Note:**

> My first and probably only fic pairing other than Harry/Draco.   
> Gift fic for davros fan, who requested Harry Potter/Greg Goyle, Harry being kidnapped and Greg goes to save him, with some other details.  
> Betaed by lovely gusx217

SAVING THE SAVIOR

 

It all happened so fast that if Greg had blinked his eyes at the wrong time, he would have missed it. Fortunately he had been watching Potter closely for some time now, and thus he noticed immediately when two wizards and one witch appeared from nowhere in the middle of Hogsmeade interrupting their peaceful day off, surrounded Potter and Apparated away with him. The echo of Potter’s wand still clattering against the cobblestones filled the stunned silence while dozens of students gaped in shock at what had just happened. Then chaos erupted all around the crowd, Granger and Weasley burst into motion and frantically started to search for any evidence left at the crime scene. Greg retreated back to the shadows of an alley where he had been watching, hearing Potter’s surprised shout still ringing in his ears. There was something familiar about one of the kidnappers, the witch, but Greg couldn’t remember where he had seen the woman before. Deep in thought he turned and headed back to Hogwarts, deciding there was nothing he could do to help anyone here at the moment.

 

Greg Goyle was an observer. He kept his eyes and ears open and learned a lot about the people around him just by observing them. Usually people thought that he was stupid, the dolt minion of Slytherin’s ice prince Draco Malfoy, but that was only the surface. Deep inside, Greg was much more than met the eye. Yes, he was average by almost every standard; his looks, his intelligence, his social skills, his tastes – really everything – but when it came to loyalty, he was fierce and protective at who he let close enough to really know him. Despite his reputation of being a nasty bully – although he was very capable of being that anyway, in reality he could be a very gentle person if he chose to.

 

He knew that he had changed a lot since the the war, well, who hadn't? Those awful events had left a permanent impact on everything he was, everything he ever had been and everything he was ever going to be. His appearance hadn’t changed so much; he had shed the last of his baby fat from his body and gained a good amount of muscle instead. Otherwise he looked about the same as before; tall wizard with short dark hair, and his appearance still frightened the younger students even though he was sure that his eyes gave him away most of the time. They looked so much bigger now that his face had narrowed since the war.

 

He had been watching Potter since right after the last battle of Hogwarts, after Potter had defeated the Dark Lord. He had seen how Potter had reacted to his still growing fame, how he had shut himself off from everyone as the people around him got more and more enthusiastic about his presence. Greg had felt pity for him; the worshipped hero couldn’t get a moment of peace anywhere he went, and he obviously got anxious when the adoring crowd surrounded him. Sometimes Greg entertained himself with the thought of grabbing Potter and rescuing him from all that hassle, especially when even Potter’s closest friends didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was in the middle of his adoring fans. It seemed to Greg that Potter had been distancing himself from a lot of people who used to be close to him, but Weasley and Granger remained his closest friends. Potter hadn’t even gotten back together with the Weasley girl after the war and that was surprising. Potter wasn’t his old self anymore, that was obvious.

 

The news of Potter’s disappearance had already reached the castle, and Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement and worry. All the students were ushered back to their own common rooms while the professors gathered in an emergency meeting at the Headmistress’ office. Greg wandered back to the Slytherin dungeons and was greeted with an excited and gloating crowd when he entered the common room.

 

“Greg, did you see what happened in Hogsmeade today?” Draco asked smirking. “The good old Golden Boy got snatched right in front of everyone. Maybe we finally got rid of him for good this time!”

 

Draco still loved to show his distaste towards Potter in front of everyone, even though there hadn’t been real malice behind his acts after the war. Greg was quite sure that it was all bravado, just like a hard habit to break.

 

“Well, yeah, I saw Potter Apparating away with two wizards and one witch. I think I know one of them from somewhere, but I can’t remember where,” Greg explained hesitantly.

 

“Don’t bother your head with it, Greg. The-Boy-Who-Disappeared is gone, let’s celebrate!”

 

Greg didn't bother arguing back, but he didn’t feel like partying either, so he went to his dorm and prepared for an early night. He cast a silencing charm around his bed so his celebrating dorm mates wouldn’t wake him in the middle of the night. Then, just like any other night at Hogwarts, he went to sleep.

 

It wasn’t his noisy dorm mates who woke him up in the middle of the night, but the strange dream he was having. It made him startle awake sweaty and in panic. In his dream he had been in Knockturn Alley, following Potter, trying to make him stop, because he had an ominous feeling that something really bad was going to happen to him. Potter didn’t hear his calls, he just walked ahead, but then a familiar witch appeared in front of Potter and yanked him inside the worn Chemist. Greg cried out in despair and ran after them, but when he wrenched the door open, the Chemist was empty. All Greg could find was Potter’s wand on the floor. An anxious cry escaped from Greg’s lips and to that sound he finally woke up.

 

It took him several moments to calm down from the nightmare, but when he eventually could think straight again, he realized that now he knew where he had seen the witch before. He needed to find an excuse to visit Knockturn Alley as soon as possible.

 

*H*G*

 

It took two days and some clever scheming from Greg until he got to leave Hogwarts for one afternoon and evening. Not that he was given any extra attention anyways, because everyone was frantic about Potter’s disappearance and entirely focussed on finding him. Even the Headmistress wasn’t at Hogwarts at the moment, but doing her research elsewhere and having lengthy meetings at the Ministry.

 

Greg wasn’t expected back until the next morning, so he took his time watching Knockturn Alley and it’s shopkeepers under the Disillusionment Charm, because he didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing him. He didn’t know what compelled him to go after Potter, it wasn’t as if it was his concern. There were already so many people out there with a much better grasp of the situation and better resources at hand to actually find their Savior, but somehow Greg knew that he had information that no one else did, and he needed to find out if his information was correct before he passed it to someone else.

 

Greg wandered along Knockturn Alley trying to locate the shady Chemist shop he had seen in his dream. It was surprisingly difficult and it took him a good while to locate the entrance of the Chemist in a dark alley just off Knockturn. He remembered visiting the shop several years back with his father, and the mere thought of that dusty, weird smelling little shop made him shiver in disgust. There had been long shelves full of jars containing the most disgusting things like preserved little animals and probably human or large animal organs. One jar was filled with preserved eyes, which seemed to stare right at Greg where ever he happened to stand in the shop. Now, Greg didn’t even try to force himself to go in there again. He settled for waiting in front of the shop, leaning on the opposite wall right across from it in the narrow alley.

 

The first couple of hours of his stakeout revealed three customers visiting the shop, and he knew two of them from his father’s circle of acquaintances. Greg wondered what they were purchasing from the shop. Something illegal, probably. Otherwise they’d have been using Mr. Mulpepper’s Apothecary at Diagon Alley.

 

It was getting chilly and Greg was shivering under his robes. It was late October and he cursed silently for not putting on warmer clothing. Soon, though, he forgot all about his feeling cold when he noticed movement inside the shop. There weren't any customers inside so it must have been the apothecary himself or his assistant. Then the lights inside were dimmed and someone came by the door. A dark haired witch peeked out of the door before putting on the “closed” sign and going back inside. Greg held his breath: the witch was the same one he had seen disappearing with Potter in Hogsmeade and who had snatched Potter in his dream.

 

Greg stood frozen in place trying frantically to think of what to do next; he couldn’t just barge into the shop demanding answers, could he? What if the witch Flooed somewhere straight from the shop? Greg would never know where she had gone and if she had anything to do with Potter’s kidnapping. Greg was getting colder, worried and anxious, not to mention that he hadn’t eaten all afternoon. Now he was hungry, and he was absolutely incapable of thinking at all with an empty stomach.

 

Soon, though, he forgot all about his discomfort when the door opened and the witch stepped outside. Without looking around, she hurried deeper into the shadows of the alley, further away from Diagon Alley, to the darker parts of Wizarding London. Greg followed her as silently as he could, keeping only a few meters distance from her; he didn’t want to lose sight of her. This might be the only opportunity for him to see what the witch had in mind.

 

A couple of blocks later, the witch turned abruptly to the left and vanished into a shady gateway. She opened a door and disappeared inside an abandoned looking old house. Greg carefully peeked through the dark window to see inside, but the house was quiet. There wasn’t even a ray of light inside. Greg took a deep breath and cracked the door open. When he didn’t hear or see anything, he cautiously stepped inside.

 

Silence surrounded him like a suffocating blanket as soon as he entered the house. He steadied his breath and tried to calm his racing heart, when he heard a quiet creak somewhere to his right. There were stairs leading up, but just when he decided to follow the sound upstairs, he heard it again, this time coming from a room behind the stairs. Greg sneaked to the opened door and peeked inside. The room was empty. No furniture, no curtains, nothing inside the room but an old looking wardrobe.

 

Greg went to take a closer look at the wardrobe and cast a Lumos. It looked a lot like the old wardrobe Draco had been working on during the War, the Vanishing Cabinet, but it couldn’t possibly be that one. However, the wardrobe looked like it had been used recently, because everything around it was dusty except for a narrow path of footsteps that led from the door to the wardrobe, and the doorknob was shiny from being used.

 

Greg opened the door and looked inside. The wardrobe was empty, and after only a brief moment of hesitation, Greg stepped inside the wardrobe. Turned out that it was a Vanishing Cabinet of some sort, because after a short period of disorientation in the darkness, Greg opened the door to a different house in the middle of nowhere. This house was as empty as the previous one, and once Greg stepped out of it, he realized it was located in the middle of a dark, thick forest.

 

When he looked around, he noticed flickering lights behind the trees and started to follow the path leading towards them. The path ended at the edge of a clearing, where torches were lit around several tents and some people were sitting around a campfire in the middle of the area. Greg stayed hidden in the shadows, taking a careful look at the surroundings. The clearing was heavily warded, and there were also two wizards standing guard at a gate. The witch who Greg had followed here, had just passed the guards and was putting her things back into her purse. This seemed to be an unusually well guarded camp site for leisure use, and that made Greg even more suspicious.

 

Greg ignored his growing hunger and cold, and made himself as comfortable as possible at the edge of the clearing, far enough from the path that if someone walked that way, he wouldn’t be noticed, and began observing the area and the people inside the camp. He could see at least twenty four witches and wizards in the area, and the two guards at the gate. No one could enter or exit the camp without them noticing. As far as Greg could see, the camp was surrounded by a sturdy barrier that shimmered in the torch light. Obviously it was also warded with magic, so no one could enter or exit that way either.

 

The witch Greg had been following went straight to the biggest tent near the back of the area and disappeared inside. Some time later she came out with a bowl in her hands. She seemed to carry it carefully as if trying not to spill the contents of the bowl on her way to another tent nearby. Then a little while after her, two wizards stepped outside the big tent dragging something between them. Greg took another look and narrowed his eyes. Potter! He seemed to be in bad shape, probably unconscious, because his feet didn’t hold him up anymore. He was like a dead weight in the hands of these wizards, and Greg could see blood dripping from his head and chest. Despite his tortured appearance, Greg could still see that it was Potter. No doubt about it. 

 

Greg stifled a horrified gasp that threatened to escape his lips at seeing their hero in such shape. His terrified gaze followed the three figures going into a small tent near the big one, where the wizards left Potter and then returned back to the big tent. Frantically Greg started to find his way back to the Vanishing Cabinet to get back to London and then to Hogwarts to get some help for Potter.

 

*H*G*

 

It was almost dawn when Greg arrived back at Hogwarts. He went straight to Draco and woke him up with an urgent shake.

 

“What the hell are you on about, Goyle?” Draco snarled at him. He definitely wasn’t a morning person.

 

“I found him, Draco. We need to help him. They are beating or torturing him, or something like that. We need to get him out of there, now!” Greg’s voice was frantic, and for a moment Draco just stared at him, confused.

 

“What are you talking about? Found who? And who’s torturing who? You aren't making any sense, Greg. Go back to sleep and stop bothering me.” Draco flopped back under his blanket and tried to go back to sleep, but Greg was insistent.

 

“It’s Potter, I found him! We have to get him help and soon. I don’t think he can last long in there.”

 

“You found Potter? In your dreams, Greg. Go back to sleep and leave me alone.”

 

“But Draco, we have to…”

 

“We don’t have to do anything, Greg, got it? Everyone is already looking for Potty, they don’t need us there to meddle in their plans. Now go or I’ll hex you!”

 

Dejected, Greg left and went to his own dorm. Maybe Draco didn’t believe him, but someone had to! He started to think of anyone who might take him seriously and be able to help get Potter out of there quickly.

 

It was already afternoon, when Greg finally had a chance to go to the Headmistress' office. He had prepared an explanation that the Headmistress would believe, and give all the information he had gathered when observing the camp site. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the office, the Headmistress wasn’t there. She was still at the Ministry, joined in the efforts of finding Potter. Greg couldn’t do much more than leave her a note about what he had found and ask her to do something.

 

Next he approached his Head of House, Professor Slughorn, who listened to what he had to tell him, but afterwards didn’t seem to take him seriously, either. Especially, when Slughorn asked where exactly was the camp located, Greg couldn’t give a specific location, so Slughorn lost his interest. He claimed that Greg had only been having a bad dream, and that was understandable considering how upsetting the entire situation was. He suggested that Greg take the Dreamless Sleep potion, because he was obviously suffering from exhaustion. At hearing that, Greg stormed out of Slughorn’s office and started to make a new plan.

 

First, he had to get to Potter, to see if he was still alive and if he could be of any help to him. Obviously he couldn’t get him out of there alone, unnoticed, but at least he could confirm that he was right and he wasn’t just dreaming as people seemed to think. First of all, he had to find a way to get past the guards at the gate. Disillusion Charm wasn’t a solution; the magical wards would notice him under the charm anyway. What could he use to distract the guards from noticing him? He would have to be practically invisible to get past the gate. Wait, invisible? Didn’t Potter have an Invisibility Cloak? At least that’s what he had heard. Maybe he still had it somewhere in his belongings? Greg could only hope that he didn’t have it with him when he had been kidnapped. If it was still in his trunk in the Gryffindor dorm, Greg would have a way to get it.

 

During the evening, Greg kept himself busy collecting things he might need if he managed to sneak into the camp and actually see Potter. His wounds would need some tending, so he took a small jar of healing salve and some potions he had available, a Blood-Replenishing Potion and a Wound-Cleaning Potion. He also managed to find a potion for pain, and he shrunk them all and pocketed the vials carefully. Then he just had to wait for the night to fall.

 

It was almost midnight, when he deemed it was safe to try to sneak into the Gryffindor dorms. He had overheard the password for opening the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower and now he used it to his advantage. The Fat Lady guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor dorm didn’t even bat an eye at Greg’s request to enter, she was quite sleepy at this hour anyway. Greg managed to sneak into the dorm and on the third try he found the right dorm where Potter bunked. Now, of course, his bed was empty, but his trunk laid still at the foot of his bed.

 

Greg cast a silencing spell around Potter’s bed so he could work on the trunk without anyone hearing him. He rummaged around the contents of the trunk until he felt a silky material brush his hand. It felt so different from the other things in the trunk that he grabbed the material and lifted his hand to see it better. He gasped when his hand had disappeared altogether from his wrist to his fingers: he had found the Invisibility Cloak! Quietly he folded the Cloak and pocketed it before closing the trunk and began to sneak out of the dorm. He was half-way out the door, when he heard a bed creak and Weasley’s sleepy voice asking, “Who’s there? Harry?” Upon hearing Weasley’s voice Greg took off as fast as he could.

 

He used the Invisibility Cloak all the way back to the camp site and marvelled at the feeling of being invisible to everyone around him. He didn’t have to sneak anymore, although he needed to keep quiet so not to raise any suspicions. He made it easily back to the clearing, but when he came close to the guards at the gate, he hesitated. It felt much more dangerous when he felt the guards stare right at him, even though he knew they didn’t actually see him. He just hoped that the magic wards around the camp weren’t attuned only to the people inside the camp and thus wouldn’t make an alarm when he stepped inside the warded area.

 

He hadn’t noticed holding his breath until he was safely inside the camp and exhaled in relief. He quietly passed the few people sitting around the campfire and stopped for a moment to listen to what they were saying.

 

“I’m worried. It’s Samhain soon and he hasn’t broken yet. We need to find a way to break him in the next two days or we’ll lose the opportunity until next year,” said a beautiful brunette witch. She was young, not much older than Greg, but he didn’t recognize her although they must have been at Hogwarts at the same time. A grim looking older man took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll break him. We still have some surprises for him that he can’t fight back, even his extraordinary self-control can’t help him.”

 

Greg took a step back in disgust and turned towards the tent he had seen Potter taken to the previous night. He had to get Potter out of here, one way or the other. He slipped through the doorway flaps of the tent and instantly saw the figure lying on the cot tense visibly.

 

“Potter?” he whispered quietly. “Potter, it’s me, Greg, Greg Goyle. I’m here to help you.”

 

In the dim light coming from the torchlights outside, Greg saw the figure on the cot turning his head to look at him, but then turning his head back towards ceiling as if he didn’t see him. The Invisibility Cloak! Greg was still wearing it, so no wonder Potter didn’t see him.

 

Greg pulled the Cloak off and tried again, this time Potter recognized him at once, stiffening again. Then he huffed as if trying to laugh, but not quite managing it.

 

“Goyle? You missed the party tonight,” a raspy voice whispered weakly.

 

“No! No, I’m not one of them. I came here to help you!” Greg whispered urgently.

 

“How else would you be here if you’re not one of them. Probably no one knows where I am. Now, fuck off, the show is over for tonight.” Potter’s whisper was weary and he closed his eyes.

 

Greg closed the distance between himself and Potter, and inhaled sharply. Now that he could see Potter closely, he noticed several deep wounds on his skin, some of them were still dripping blood. His skin was also full of bruises and burn marks, and his face was pale and his eyes haunted.

 

“Salazar, what have they done to you?” Greg was horrified.

 

“As if you don’t know,” Potter scoffed. “What was your favourite part of that show, cutting or burning? Or that creepy mental torture?”

 

"You have to believe me, I have nothing to do with this! I was following one of your kidnappers and that’s how I found this place. I’m here to help you.” Greg was getting desperate. It seemed today was “don’t believe Goyle” day for everyone around him.

 

“You’re a Slytherin and you lot hate me. Why else would you be here if not to finish the job or at least mock me about being weak from torture.”

 

“Not all the Slytherins hate you. Not anymore. You saved our arses, after all. I don’t think that Slytherins know how to be grateful, so don’t expect them to come thank you for it. However, I happened to see you being kidnapped and thought you needed help. I want to help you, please believe me. No one deserves to be kidnapped or treated like this.” Greg was surprised how important it suddenly was to him, for Potter to believe him.

 

Potter stared at him, obviously trying to decide if he could trust him or not. Greg didn’t dare to say a word or make any abrupt moves. Then Potter blinked, turned his head away and sighed.

 

“There’s nothing you can do alone to help me. You can’t use magic here or Apparate away. It will take a rescue team to get me out of here. Did you tell anyone?”

 

“Yes, I talked to Malfoy and Slughorn, but neither believed me. I tried to find McGonagall, too, but she’s at the Ministry trying to figure out what happened to you.”

 

“Right. I’m doomed then. I won’t last long anyway. Not at this rate. They are getting desperate, because Samhain is coming soon.” Potter sounded resigned.

 

“I’ll find a way to get help, I promise. What do they want from you? Some information?”

 

“As if. They want my power, my magic.”

 

“What? Why would they want that?”

 

“It’s some sort of cult. They are going to perform a ritual during Samhain and they’ll need all the extra power they can get. That’s why they are trying every possible trick to make me lash out to capture my magic. They have already tried different sorts of pain to break me, but pain is something I can deal with. They took my blood, but I hardly noticed it. It was harder when they used Legilimency to torture my mind. I’ve never been good at Occlumency.”

 

Greg was appalled. Capturing someone’s magic against their will was a vile and despicable thing to do. It was as if someone was trying to cut off your hands just to get an extra pair for themselves. 

 

“I’ll get you out of here, one way or the other. You just need to last a little bit longer. I’ll make someone believe me. Someone, who can help us. Now while I’m here, I could help you with healing your wounds.”

 

“No! At least don’t do any magic, they will notice it. There’s wards everywhere. I tried to perform wandless magic and I paid for it dearly.”

 

“No magic then. I have some potions and salves with me, let’s use them.”

 

Greg dug the vials out of his pockets and used them on Potter carefully. After drinking the pain potion, Potter didn’t flinch and tense so much anymore, when Greg carefully tended his wounds. As he rubbed the salve on Potter’s skin, he couldn’t help but marvel at how soft and pliant it was, and how firm his well-defined muscles felt. He started to feel something else in his gut while caressing Potter’s skin, and he snatched his hands away as if burned when he realized that he was getting aroused. He had never felt like this with a bloke, and this was Potter of all people, not to mention that he was injured!

 

He waited for the healing to begin, and gave Potter some water and a chocolate frog he found from his pocket. Potter seemed in need of some sustenance and ate it with gusto. They talked quietly through the night, even though Potter was exhausted. Greg wasn’t usually the one to talk, but when he noticed how much Potter seemed to be comforted by having company, he kept talking until just before dawn, when he prepared to leave. He had apologized for stealing Potter’s Invisibility Cloak, but Potter hadn’t been upset about it. After all, it had been an essential item for Greg to get to him. They discussed who Greg should talk to for help in planning a rescue attempt and predictably Potter suggested that Greg should talk to Weasley and Granger. Greg rolled his eyes, but agreed at least to try. The next option, if the Headmistress was still not available, was for Greg to talk to any professor he could get to listen to him, but Greg didn’t put much hope in that ever happening. He was considered a dolt and firmly in the Potter-hating team, so it was inevitable that no one believed that he knew something and was willing to help.

 

When Greg left, Potter seemed to be in better spirits than before, and seemed to have gained some of his courage and confidence back. Greg promised to be back as soon as possible with help, and the last sight of Potter rewarded him with a small, warm smile. Greg felt that warmth all the way back to Hogwarts.

 

First thing he did, when he arrived back, was to find Potter’s friends. He hadn’t slept all night, but now that he was a man with a mission, he didn’t feel tired at all. He tried to catch Weasley and Hermione at breakfast, but when he arrived in the Great Hall, they both had left for classes already. He had no idea what morning classes they had, because today they didn’t have classes with the Slytherins until the afternoon.

 

At lunch he noticed both Weasley and Granger sitting at the Gryffindor table and approached them.

 

“Umm… hello, Granger, Weasley,” he started awkwardly.

 

“What do you want, Goyle?” Weasley snarled.

 

“Can I have a word with you two, it’s about Potter,” Greg hurried to explain.

 

“Harry is not your concern, so beat it,” Weasley barked. He was obviously stressed and upset over the whole situation.

 

“Ron, maybe he has some…” Granger tried to intervene, but Weasley had already jumped to his feet and pushed Greg away.

 

“Fuck off, Goyle! We don’t need any of your mocking right now!” Weasley took Granger by her arm and dragged her away from the Great Hall.

 

Greg was fuming. Weasley and Granger of all people should have been open to any information concerning their best friend! Although he could understand their actions after everything that had happened between Gryffindors and Slytherins over the years, he was still frustrated as hell. What next? McGonagall hadn’t returned yet from her visit to the Ministry, and the other professors were just as unlikely to believe him as his own Head of House. Granger seemed to be more ready to listen to him than the bloody-minded Weasley, but how to get to her? Weasley was guarding her like a bloody hawk.

 

Then Greg remembered Luna Lovegood, and how she was friends with the Weasley girl. Maybe he could tell Luna about Potter and she could get the Weasley girl to talk to Granger. He needed to make them listen to him and believe him. Potter was running out of time, and Greg knew he had to get help quickly in order to save him.

 

Greg rushed out of the Great Hall in search of Lovegood. She hadn’t been at lunch, so the next option was the library. Greg had noticed his friends at the Slytherin table looking at him confused, but he didn’t have time to explain anything to them right now. Neither did he stop when one of his professors tried to stop him on his way to the library. He knew there would be hell to pay afterwards, but right now he didn’t care.

 

Lovegood wasn’t in the library either, and Greg had to stop for a moment to think. A couple of Ravenclaws passed him on their way to the library and Greg stopped them to ask about Lovegood. The girls seemed frightened of him and hardly got a word out of their mouths, but eventually they managed to tell him that Lovegood used to spend time outside, near the Black Lake. She was there studying some Snorkacks or some sort of rubbish like that.

 

Greg dashed out of the castle and towards the lake, where he soon noticed Lovegood sitting on the grass looking as loony as ever. He didn’t have a choice, though, and as far as he knew, the surface could be deceptive. He of all people knew that painfully well.

 

“Lovegood, I need your help. It’s Potter,” Greg all but panted after his run.

 

“Greg, how nice of you to come and greet me. Would you like to see what I’ve found?” Lovegood’s voice was dreamy.

 

“No, there’s no time. Listen, I know where Potter is. He needs our help, but Weasley and Granger refuse to listen to me. You have to help me, help Potter, he doesn’t have much time!”

 

"Harry? Where is he? Everyone is looking for him.” It was as if Lovegood had finally woken up from her dream.

 

“I know that everyone’s looking for him, that’s why I need your help, Lovegood. I followed one of the kidnappers and found out where they are keeping him. It’s some sort of cult and they are going to sacrifice him or something during Samhain. We have to get him out of there as soon as possible!”

 

“Oh, but Samhain is so soon. Tell me everything, Greg,” Lovegood instructed and there wasn’t any sign of her earlier dreamlike tone left in her voice.

 

Greg told her everything he knew and answered all of her questions as best as he could. Lovegood looked more determined with every frustrated explanation of how he had tried to tell so many people about Potter, and no one believed him. When he was finished explaining the situation to Lovegood, she looked anxious but very determined. She stood up, brushing her clothes and then straightened up to her full height.

 

“Thank you, Greg. I’m glad you came to me with your information. I’ll make sure that they listen to me and come to help you and Harry. Now, I think it would be best if you put the Invisibility Cloak to good use again and go back to Harry. He needs to know that help is on the way.”

 

“But… don’t you need me to show you the house where the Vanishing Cabinet is?”

 

“You already told me where the house is. I can find it by your instructions. If it makes you feel any better, you can drop this necklace on the ground next to the first step at the front door. That way I’ll be sure that we are at the right house.” Lovegood took the necklace off her neck and offered it to Greg. He took it and put it in his pocket.

 

“Please, just make sure you have enough people in your rescue team. There’s so many of them in the camp and we will need all the help we can get. I’ll try to keep Potter safe until you arrive, alright?” Greg wanted to be sure that Lovegood knew what she was dealing with. “I will wait for you until midnight tonight. If you’re not there then, I’ll have to take him out of there some other way. We don’t have any time to waste.”

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll get help one way or the other. Trust me. Harry is my friend, and I’ll do everything I can to get him out of there. If something goes wrong, the people at Hogwarts aren’t the only ones who can help us.”

 

Feeling reassured, Greg nodded at Lovegood and left. He had a feeling that he could trust Lovegood, if not for himself, at least for Potter.

 

*H*G*

 

When he arrived back to the camp, he noticed that something was going on. The people in the campsite were excited and obviously anticipating something. Greg was alarmed; this didn’t look good for Potter. He sneaked around a bunch of people at the campfire and caught short parts of conversations. It sounded like they all were sure that something was going to happen tonight, something big. Greg only hoped that it wouldn’t be breaking Potter.

 

He stepped inside Potter’s tent and froze in place. The tent and the cot where Potter had laid were empty. What had happened? Where was Potter, and what’s more important, what was happening to him? Bile rose in his throat just thinking about what might have happened, if Potter had already been broken, or even dead. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach when he started to rummage around the tent, searching for any hint or evidence of what was going on.

 

He found nothing that would help him to figure out the situation so he just stood there under the Invisibility Cloak his mind going into overdrive trying to decide what to do next, where to start searching for Potter. He was getting frantic, and just the thought of being frantic and worried about Potter’s whereabouts stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t believe how he could have missed that: his feelings for Potter had changed without him noticing it. Somewhere along the way Potter had turned from being just an intriguing person to someone Greg had come to care a lot about. He had never been attracted to anyone before, not a girl or a boy, but now he felt a strong urge to protect Potter, to keep him safe… and with him. The thought made Greg feel dizzy; he would have to mull over that as soon as he had more time, after he had Potter safely out of here, but first he had to find him.

 

Greg was just about to walk out of the tent, when he heard voices approaching outside.

 

“Now all we have to do is wait, and let him simmer in his own juices until the ritual. This time we did it; he couldn’t fight this off just like the other times. Soon we’ll have all the power we need to call our master.” The speaker sounded darkly pleased at the progress they obviously had achieved with Potter, and Greg felt coldness crawling up his spine. What had they done to Potter?

 

Soon the door flaps of the tent opened and two wizards dragged a very anguished Potter inside. Greg instinctively took a couple of steps back so he was well out of their way. The wizards tossed Potter on the cot, and Greg realized that Potter was stark naked. He was writhing and moaning in agony, and the wizards chuckled mockingly at him before leaving the tent.

 

Greg approached Potter cautiously. He didn’t see any new wounds on him – well, he couldn’t force his eyes further down Potter’s body than his waist, but he seemed unharmed physically. What had they done to him? Some new form of mind torture?

 

Chucking off the Cloak, Greg crouched next to Potter and warily touched his shoulder.

 

“Potter? What’s wrong? What did they do to you?” he whispered urgently.

 

Dark green eyes flew open and Potter’s eyes stared at him without fully focusing on anything at all.

 

“Goyle… you have to help me. Do something… or distract me… whatever… just help me,” Potter’s voice was hoarse and he was practically panting.

 

“What is it? What do you want me to do?”

 

“They… found a way to… break me… that I can’t fight off… argh, I’m burning… I can’t…” Then Potter closed his eyes and convulsions wracked his body. Greg tried to get a better hold of his shoulders and arms to keep him from falling off the cot, but Potter turned it into free style wrestling with his wriggling, bucking and rubbing against Greg. It took a moment for Greg to realize that Potter was trying to pull him on top of himself. He snatched his hands off Potter as if burned and stumbled backwards in shock.

 

“Potter! What… what are you doing?”

 

“Help me… I can’t do it myself… they bound me with… magic… that I can’t… touch myself. You have to help me, Goyle…” Potter was sweating now, and his body was tense as a bow string. His hands reached for Greg, but Greg stayed out of his reach, confused.

 

“What are you talking about? Why can’t you touch yourself? And why should you?”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Goyle! Ahhh… fuck… They put me under a spell and… shit… gave me a potion to make me… so fucking horny that I need you to… do something about it!” Potter demanded utterly irritated at Greg’s dumbness. Potter gestured at the nether regions of his body and Greg’s shocked eyes followed the gesture.

 

“Oh… right,” Greg managed to choke out, while his eyes roved on Potter’s gorgeous body. Greg’s gaze marvelled at Potter’s tanned, smooth skin and well-defined muscles that twitched and strained under his skin. There was a tuft of chest hair on Potter’s chest that Greg’s fingers itched to tug. His nipples were brownish and so aroused that they were hard nubs tempting Greg’s lips and tongue to play with. When Greg finally found his courage and took a good glance at Potter’s cock, it was jutting proudly from it’s bed of dark curls, so hard that it was dark purple and obviously painful.

 

“Right, well…” Greg stuttered and hesitantly lifted his hand towards Potter’s cock. Impatiently Potter grabbed his hand and put it on his cock.

 

“Get on with it, already!” Potter’s whisper was almost as a desperate cry. Greg obliged and closed his eyes in his embarrassment. He didn’t exactly know what to do – he hadn’t done this to anyone but himself – but he figured that Potter wasn’t probably in any state to complain. He cautiously wrapped his hand around Potter’s shaft and stroked, slowly and carefully at first, but when Potter whimpered and urged him to go faster and with a stronger grip, he didn’t hesitate.

 

Greg’s own cock was straining in his pants and it was getting incredibly hot in his clothes. With his other hand, he opened his robes and dropped them on the floor. Then he opened the buttons of his shirt, leaving the shirt open revealing his broad chest. Potter took advantage of it and started rubbing his hand along Greg’s chest, while his fingers rubbed and twisted his nipples. Greg moaned and threw his head back – that felt wonderful! Then Potter’s hand found it’s way to Greg’s trousers and dug under the waistband. A calloused hand wrapped around his fully erect cock and started to stroke urgently. Greg gasped and had to restrain himself from not coming right there and then.

 

After a few strokes, Potter’s hand went to Greg’s neck and pulled him into a heated kiss.

 

“It's not working… argh… it’s not enough… I need more. You have to… to fuck me, Goyle!” Potter groaned through gritted teeth against Greg’s lips.

 

Greg's mind was still reeling from Potter’s ministrations and it took a moment for the words to sink in. He froze and tried to pull away, but Potter’s grip on his neck kept him in place.

 

“Do it,” Potter groaned.

 

“Tell me what to do,” Greg rasped, not quite believing what he was about to do, and with Potter, of all people.

 

“Fingers first… use some lube… then shove your big cock in… now, Goyle!”

 

“Lube? I don’t have any lube with me!”

 

“Any salve left? Use it.”

 

Greg scrambled backwards reaching for his robes. He removed a jar of healing salve from his pocket, hoping that it wouldn’t cause any side-effects from this intended misuse. He dipped his fingers into the jar and collected a good dollop of the salve in his hand. Then he hesitantly reached towards Potter’s crotch, but once again Potter took matters into his own hands. With one hand he lifted his leg so that his knee was against his chest and with the other hand he guided Greg’s slick fingers to his arse.

 

Greg felt his ears blush at the first feeling of Potter’s arse against his hand as he carefully brushed his fingers along Potter’s crack. When Potter wriggled impatiently under his questing hand, he finally rubbed one finger against Potter’s entrance and pushed in. It felt as if an intense vortex had sucked his finger inside Potter’s arse, and that feeling made his own cock twitch in anticipation. He slid his finger in and out of Potter a few times, until Potter grunted, “More.” Then he added another finger and stroked them in and out of Potter with more speed. The next request of more made him add a third finger into the mix, and that made Potter’s hole clench almost unbearably around his fingers. Yet he did as he was asked to, and fucked Potter with his fingers, until Potter grew impatient, once again. He must have been almost delirious with lust at this point.

 

“Now, Goyle, do it. Fuck me, please,” Potter begged, and Greg didn’t have to be told twice. His own prick was throbbing in his now opened trousers, and his head was spinning with desire.

 

Greg yanked Potter sideways on the narrow cot. The cot was low, so it made Greg’s cock perfectly aligned to Potter’s entrance, when Greg was kneeling on the floor. He pushed Potter’s knees against his chest and without preamble pushed his cock inside.

 

They both moaned in unison as Greg pushed himself in to the hilt. The feeling of Potter’s hot, snug heat around his prick was incredible, and Greg had to keep himself in place to prevent himself coming too soon. Potter wasn’t willing to wait any longer, though, and urged Greg to move by digging his heels in Greg’s lower back and pulling him deeper. Greg wondered if Potter was always this impatient and bossy when having sex, or was it the magic and potion induced lust doing the talking at the moment.

 

Nevertheless, Greg started rocking his hips against Potter slowly at first, but soon his pace turned faster and harder, and eventually he was pounding into Potter with abandon. Much too soon he felt his balls tighten up and the hot wave of pleasure spreading through his whole body and then he was coming, deep inside Potter’s arse. He collapsed on top of Potter, still shuddering from the force of his climax, as he kept thrusting shallowly inside Potter. He turned his head and glanced at Potter lying under him, his eyes open and looking at Greg accusingly. 

 

“You okay?” Greg asked hesitantly.

 

“Of course not! You were supposed to help me to get release, but instead you helped only yourself.”

 

“You asked me to fuck you and I just did! What else do you want me to do?”

 

“Help me to get the fucking release before these bastards come and take me to their fucking ritual,” Potter’s voice was rising in frustration.

 

“For fuck’s sake, I’ll get you off, one way or the other, no need to get bitchy,” Greg grumbled, “and keep your voice down, we don’t want any guards barging in here right now.”

 

Greg returned his attention to Potter’s cock and wanked him furiously, until his own cock twitched again in interest, and Greg could stimulate Potter with both his cock and hand. That finally paid off, this time Greg lasted longer than the first time, but the strong effect of the used spell and potion didn’t wear off that easily. Greg had to repeat his actions twice more before Potter sighed in relief and his feverish lust lessened to a bearable level. They curled together on the narrow cot, Greg spooning Harry from behind and wrapping his hand around the tortured young man. He was on the verge of sleep, but just then Potter opened his mouth.

 

“Umm… I’m sorry for how I acted, Goyle. Let’s say that I wasn’t myself. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be, Potter. I understand. Using that spell and potion together on you was a vile thing to do, I could see it was agony for you.”

 

“Yeah, it was like a bad itch that couldn’t be scratched. I’m glad you were here to help me out. I guess now they know how to break me. Merlin, the energy of my climax could have lit the better half of Hogsmeade,” Potter chuckled weakly.

 

"Huh?" Greg wasn't quite following Potter’s words.

 

“I meant electricity, and maybe comparing it to Hogsmeade wasn’t quite correct, but that’s about how I felt. Thank you, anyway, for your help, Goyle.”

 

“My pleasure,” Greg whispered, and after a moment of stunned silence, they both burst out laughing at the same time.

 

"Pleasure, indeed," Potter whispered still chuckling. "Now that that’s out of the way, did you get any help for getting us out of here?”

 

“That wasn’t easy. McGonagall still isn’t back from her trip to the Ministry, and when I tried to talk to Granger and Weasley, he pushed me away. I think Granger might have listened to me, but Weasley didn’t let her. Then I remembered that Lovegood is friends with the Weasley girl, so I talked to her, and she promised to get help for us. Do you trust her?”

 

“Trust who - Luna? Of course. She might be a little bit weird, but when she’s determined to do something, nothing will stop her.” Potter relaxed against Greg and wrapped his hands on top of his. “I think we should get prepared for the night. They will come for me before their ritual, and that’s about to happen at midnight. You better put the Cloak back on, Goyle. Or should I start calling you Greg from now on, after you’ve shagged me half silly?”

 

Greg chuckled, “Silly enough for calling me Greg, huh? Yeah, you can call me Greg, but I’ll call you Potter… er, Harry, then, alright?”

 

“Deal. Now you better get dressed. I don’t know what happened to my clothes, so I guess I’m staying starkers.”

 

“As if that wouldn’t be distracting,” Greg muttered under his breath, but fortunately Harry didn’t hear him.

 

They sat in silence for a long while, both deep in thought. Greg thought about what would happen when they got back to Hogwarts, and if there was any chance for them to continue seeing each other. He was more than ready to start officially dating Potter and confronting all the prejudices the other students might toss his way, but what about Harry? He had been under the influence of that damned potion and spell when they had had sex; was there any chance that he might want to be with him in real life, too? Greg wasn’t sure about it, and he was getting anxious about it. Was he ready to let go of Harry now that he had got a taste of how wonderful it would be?

 

His thoughts were interrupted by two wizards entering the tent, and Greg wrapped the Invisibility Cloak tighter around himself. It wouldn’t do any good if he let them see him at this point; they would easily overpower him, and then he would be of no use to Potter.

 

The wizards were chatting when they arrived, and thus they didn’t see Harry’s condition immediately. However, when they grabbed him to take him away, they noticed his now relaxed state and hell broke loose. They shouted at Harry for ruining their ritual and how they’d need to start all over again, and one of them punched Harry in frustration. Harry fought back until the other wizard restrained him, and the punching and kicking continued, until Greg couldn’t take it anymore. He opened the Cloak slightly to get the tip of his wand pointed at the wizard, and cast a Petrificus Totalus. The wizard fell to the ground, and next Greg pointed at the other wizard. That one had reacted quickly at seeing his fellow wizard fall on the ground and grabbed Harry to shield him from other curses. There was no way for Greg to cast past Harry without harming him.

 

Greg pulled his wand back inside the Cloak and stepped aside just before the wizard figured out which direction the curse had come from, and cast blindly that way. Greg decided to use his invisibility to his advantage and moved quietly towards Harry and the wizard holding him as a human shield. Just as Greg was getting to a good position for casting a curse towards the wizard, the man started to yell for help. There wasn’t much more to do but silence the man by casting a Petrificus Totalus on him as well.

 

Harry was free, and he jumped at the chance to get a wand from one of the fallen wizards. He was just about to crawl under the Invisibility Cloak when several people rushed inside and curses began to fly. Harry fought back, sending curses and spells at the cult members even though his borrowed wand didn’t work fully with him. Greg cast curses from under the Cloak – they had decided that he should keep himself hidden no matter what, so the precious Invisibility Cloak wouldn’t end up in the wrong hands. He hated not being able to fight with full force because of the Cloak, but he did everything he could to help Harry.

 

For a while it seemed that they might really make it, their attackers were piling up nicely in a pile of unconscious bodies, but then a stray curse hit Greg fully on the chest and he fell on the floor paralyzed. He could see and hear everything that happened around him, but he couldn’t move a muscle. Harry didn’t last much longer. Greg saw three curses hit him at the same time, and Harry fell. The last he saw of Harry, was when Harry was carried out of the tent unconscious.

 

Greg waited lying on the floor under the Cloak frustrated. He couldn’t see or hear anything around him; everything was too quiet. At first he thought that someone had cast a Silencio spell around the tent where he was, and he was getting really worried. What was happening? Greg tried to fight off the curse by using his own willpower, but it was in vain. He was stuck, and there was nothing he could do. He cursed inwardly and felt a panic rising in his chest.

 

Then, abruptly, a hoarse cry pierced the silence – it was Harry! – and the next sound was a large group of people beginning to chant in unison. When the chanting grew louder, Greg could hear the chanted words quite clearly:

 

Samhain on this night your servants call to thee  
Samhain on this night your servants come to thee  
With tribute most fine, tribute to your lordship  
Tribute to strength for we are but brambles in the breeze  
Samhain on this night we bid you awaken  
On this night we bid you rise

 

A low drumming was heard all around the camp, and the flickering flames of torches and campfire grew brighter than ever. Harry screamed again, and this time he received an answering howl. Howl? What in Salazar’s name was happening here?

 

Greg didn’t have time to keep wondering about it, as chaos erupted everywhere around him. People were screaming and running as if trying to escape something horrible coming after them. He could see large, threatening shadows reflecting on the walls of the tent. Greg was thinking that this might very well be the end of him once those beasts found their way into the tent and smelled his terror. Then the door flaps were yanked open and a bright voice said, “Here he is!” Next thing Greg saw was the face of Luna Lovegood, who smiled brightly at him.

 

“Oh, there you are! I knew it was useful to cast a tracking charm on you when you left Hogwarts today,” she said in a sing-song voice and cast a Finite Incantatem at him. Greg jumped up at once.

 

“What’s happening? Where’s Potter?” he asked frantically.

 

“Calm down, we arrived at the last minute. They were forcing his magic out of him with a dreadful ritual, but we intervened before any real harm was done. The Auror team has caught most of the cult members, and Harry has been taken to St. Mungo’s,” Lovegood explained smiling gently.

 

“Who’s with him? He needs to be guarded and not left alone at all,” Greg worried.

 

“The Headmistress, Ron and Hermione are with him, they won’t leave him alone. There’s only us and the Aurors left here.”

 

“You came with the Aurors? How did you manage to make them believe?” Greg asked incredulously.

 

“No, silly, I came with Hagrid. The Headmistress, Ron and Hermione came with the Aurors,” Lovegood said airily.

 

“Hagrid is here too?”

 

“Yes, of course. How else could we have scared them so badly if not for Hagrid and his beasts. I even got to ride Buckbeak, when Hagrid rode baby Norbert, although I don’t think he’s a baby anymore.”

 

“Baby Norbert?” Greg asked weakly, not believing what he was hearing.

 

“Yes, Hagrid’s pet dragon, didn’t you know about it? I was introduced to it when I was in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid collecting…”

 

Greg tuned her voice out and strode out of the tent to see what was going on outside.

 

The campsite was destroyed. The biggest tent, where obviously the ritual had been performed, was in ashes. There were still several Aurors around, some of them guiding the prisoners away. As he stood looking at the destruction a huge shadow fell over him, and Greg glanced up. He instinctively took several steps back as he saw an enormous dragon next to him, puffing hot air from his nose, and the half-giant gamekeeper of Hogwarts sitting on the dragon’s back.

 

“’ello lad, you okay?” Hagrid boomed, and all Greg could muster for a response was a mute nod.

 

“Call me if you want a ride back to ‘ogwarts!” Hagrid rumbled and urged his dragon to move again.

 

“Greg, everything is fine now. Would you like to ride with me back to Hogwarts? Buckbeak is really a sweet hippogriff, and it’s wonderful and perfectly safe to fly with him,” Lovegood said next to him, though Greg hadn’t noticed her arrival.

 

“Fine, I’d rather ride with you than with bloody Hagrid. He’d kill us both well before Hogwarts,” Greg huffed and following Lovegood’s lead, climbed up on the hippogriffs back.

 

*H*G*

 

Two weeks later Harry Potter was released from St. Mungo’s and returned to Hogwarts. Immediately a large group of his adoring fans surrounded him, gushing about his kidnapping and how heroic and strong he had been at enduring the whole thing without giving up.

 

At hearing that, Greg rolled his eyes, but didn’t even try to get near Harry. He simply didn’t have the courage because he didn’t know if he was welcome. He followed Harry from afar for two days, observing him as he had done so many times. Harry seemed to be alright, although he was even more wary when in large crowds. Once, their eyes locked in the Great Hall during dinner, and neither of them turned their eyes away, until Granger dragged Harry’s attention to something she said. Their eyes didn’t meet anymore during that dinner. Greg was disappointed, and his stomach churned in desperation. He had hoped so much, but it seemed that he was nothing to Potter anymore, now that he was free again.

 

Greg started a habit of wandering around the Black Lake alone on a daily basis. He found it relaxing and calming him when he walked in silence, and his thoughts were always on Harry. He didn’t know what to think of Harry and their one night together, now that it was all over and everything was back to normal. Or was it?

 

He more felt than heard footsteps behind him, adopting the same pace with him when they reached him. Greg glanced to his side, and to his surprise, saw Harry walking next to him.

 

“Hey,” Harry greeted him looking shy, and a small smile grazed his lips.

 

“Hey,” Greg replied. “Where did you leave your fan club?”

 

“I escaped,” Harry grinned. “Thanks for sending my Cloak back, it has been a precious help for me these days.”

 

“No problem. I gave it to Lovegood to take care of it. She promised to return it to you.”

 

“Yeah, she did. I was a little disappointed that you didn’t bring it back yourself, Greg. Have you been avoiding me?” Harry asked frowning.

 

Greg definitely avoided his eyes right now, and instead of answering the question, he asked a question of his own.

 

“Tell me, Harry, what really happened in that ritual? I didn’t hear much more than your screaming and that crowd chanting. What did they do to you?”

 

Harry glanced at him warily. “You really want to know?”

 

Greg nodded, “I was there and heard it. I want to know what happened.”

 

“Fine. I woke up tied up on the stone altar where I had been tortured so many times before. They were furious at me for getting rid of my arousal, and so they did it again, this time with a stronger spell and a stronger potion. It was hell… it was as if someone was crawling inside my skin, trying to get out through my skin. My blood was boiling in my veins and my cock and balls were about to explode. But they did it too quickly. There wasn’t the same power and strong enough magic behind my reaction than there was before. So when they began chanting, there appeared an aura or some sort of magical halo around me. I guess it came from my pent up magic and arousal.” Harry glanced at Greg a little worriedly, but Greg nodded at him, urging him to continue.

 

“When the aura was bright and strong enough, all the fire around the altar started burning brighter and the flames grew bigger, and then it appeared, the Samhain they were calling to. First I didn’t see it well enough, it was like a shapeless Dementor or something, but then it started to gain a shape of…a young woman. It was my mother, Lily Potter. She beckoned to me, wanting me to follow her, but I couldn’t… She pulled my aura towards her, as if she tried to inhale it into herself, but something stopped her. I felt an awful pain in my chest when she screamed in rage, released my aura and vanished. I guess it was at the same time the Aurors arrived, but I don’t know if she disappeared because of them or if it was it because I couldn’t follow her.”

 

Harry sniffed, telling this wasn’t easy for him. The creature taking his mother’s form was obviously a painful experience for him. Greg wrapped his hand around Harry’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly.

 

“I talked about it with McGonagall, and she thought that my magic wasn’t strong enough to make her embodiment complete. She said that it wasn’t really my mother, they just used her to get me to stop fighting against the ritual,” Harry finished his story, clearly relieved that it was all out in the open now.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry… umm, as for your earlier question, I didn’t come and bring your Cloak back myself, because I didn’t know if you wanted to see me anymore,” Greg admitted.

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you? You saved me, remember?”

 

“Yeah, but still… Gryffindors and Slytherins aren’t on the best of terms with each other so I didn’t want to make things more difficult for you.”

 

“Cut the crap. I want to get to know you better. You let me see a new side of you there at the camp, and I’d like to see more of it. I like you, Greg, and I hope we could be friends at least, maybe even more someday. What do you say?”

 

Greg stopped walking and turned to look at Harry.

 

“I don’t’ know, Harry. It won’t be easy for us to be friends. But… if friends are allowed to do something like this, among other things, maybe then…” Greg took Harry’s face between his palms and leaned in to kiss him. “Maybe then I could be convinced about the bright side of friendship between us.”

 

Harry grinned and pulled him into another kiss.

 

“I could definitely live with that.”

 

 

The End


End file.
